Memorial Day for Lorelai McCoy
by Andalusia25
Summary: As tomorrow is Memorial Day here in the States, this is my tribute to the holiday through the eyes of Lorelai Morgan McCoy.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or profit from this. **

**As tomorrow is Memorial Day here in the States, and as I am a Southern woman whose child wants to be a soldier, this is my tribute to the holiday through the eyes of Lorelai Morgan McCoy. I don't remember seeing anything canon about Mrs. McCoy, so this is my take.**

According to tradition, and the Ladies' Auxiliary, Memorial Day first began during the Civil War when several widow women were cleaning the graves of their fallen soldier husbands. In the corner away from all the other graves was a lone Yankee grave with weeds over growing the poor headstone and dirt smeared over the white marker. One woman, who after so long has become everyone's distant relative, convinced her friends that just because this man had been on the wrong side of the war, his grave should not be so neglected. His wife and his mama were no doubt on the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line weeping while they clutched his little children. So, with grace God gave a Southern Belle, they cleaned his grave just as they had done for the graves of their family. The rest, as they say, is history. The men got in on the action and the government a few years later. The holiday is not a celebration, it is a day of reverence to remember all the men and women who have given their lives over to the cause, to protect the lives of those they had left back home. It stands apart from Veteran's Day, because this day honors those who paid the ultimate sacrifice.

The last Monday in May in Georgia was always a scorcher, this year it was no different. Lorelai wiped her forehead with the back of her gardening gloves pushing her large sun-hat to the side as she took a break from her tedious task. Nancy, who had walked up just to enjoy watching her work, handed her a glass of cold ice tea. "You know they think you are nuts out here in this hot sun doing something you could have paid someone to do in half the time it's going to take your prissy ass to do." She smirked at her sister. "They think it's because you are Methodist and still haven't put your name down on this year's Battalion Ball committee yet." She sat down on the small reflection bench patting the empty spot next to her for her sister.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow in the exact same manner that her son had perfected. "You tell those Baptist hussies to mind their own damn business. This is family matters." She gingerly sat down, her back was aching. She was not as young as she used to be. "The Morgans have never hired anyone to work in the family cemetery and I'm not about to start. So what if I've got the McCoy plot to do now as well? I've been doin' just fine for over forty years. Those heifers can stick their ball up their ten-penny asses." She took a long gulp of the sweet tea. "And if you were so concerned about it, you could get your pretty little hands down here with me and help." She peaked over her glass.

A slight breeze blew, catching the new leaves in the oak tree above them, cooling off their hot-headed tempers. "Lorelai, I have offered to help you, but you won't let me. You tell me ever year how you do this for David." She took her sister's dirty gloved hand.

Unshed tears pooled in her blue eyes. "David said his family had fought in every war going back to the time the McCoys first came across from England." She looked at the ancient graves on the Eastern side of the lot. They were from the Revolutionary War, or so he had told her. The engraving had long since eroded leaving only their names. "Now, he's gone and Leonard is up there floatin' around in space fightin' with aliens. What am I going to do when they send my baby home to me to be laid to rest next to all the other soldiers these damn McCoys have to be?" Twin tears trailed down her face. "Why did Leonard have to go to Star Fleet? He could have stayed here with me and set up practice. I would have tried not to meddle." She clutched Nancy's hand.

Nancy, the older of the two, would not stand to see her sister in this shape. "Lorelai, what if everyone McCoy mother had said the same thing? What if their child had listened? Their cause would have been cast aside and their lives would have been for naught. Len is up there doing what he does best, giving his all and making his family damn proud. _If_ they bring your baby home to be buried in the Georgia dirt, Len would have laid his life down for those he cares about. That Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, the crew of the Enterprise – those are his family now. Shame on you for not thinking that is worth something. Shame on you for crying before he takes the fall." Nancy looked at her sister with the same stern glare their mother gave them when they were younger. "These men died for what they believed in, to keep the next generation safe. Any Southern worth their salt will tell you that. Leonard Horatio McCoy will do the same thing if the need arises. 'Greater love hath no man, than to lay down his life for his brother'. Have you not been reading your bible lately? You've been sitting too far in the back of church." Nancy chided.

Understanding her sister's words, Lorelai wiped her cheeks. "Some times it just overwhelms me." She tried to smile. "Let's go get some barbeque. I believe I am done for the day. No need to clean out that next plot just yet. James T. Kirk needs my boy too bad to let him die some foolish death." She slipped off her gloves and looped her arm through her sister's.

Nancy stopped at the gate and turned back. "Do you think David would be proud of Len's choice?" There had always been tension between the father and son no matter how much they loved each other.

Lorelai laughed. "Are you kiddin'? David would have been so damn proud I'd've had to bought him a bigger Stetson for that big ego he'd've grown! His boy is a Lieutenant Commander and Chief Medical Officer on the Flagship!" The sisters made their way from the small plot, flags the soldiers had fought under fluttered in the breeze over their grave. Their memory passed from one generation to the next, their sons fighting just as bravely, their legacy safe for years to come.

**A/N: thanks for reading.**

**Thank you for all the men and women who have given their lives to ensure I have the right to post this to share with people all around the world. RIP and God Bless.**

**Reviews/comments are appreciated. **


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